He Ain't Crazy, He's My Brother
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Batman's world is turned completely upside-down when he suspects that the relationship between himself and his arch-nemesis the Joker might run deeper than it seems. This is for everyone who asked for a follow-up to my story "Blood Brothers." :-)
1. Chapter 1

**He Ain't Crazy, He's My Brother**

"Everybody, join in! _There was a city had a pest, and Batsy was his name-o! B-A-T-S-Y, B-A-T-S-Y, B-A-T-S-Y, and Batsy was his name-o! There was a city had a pest, and Batsy was his name-o…_"

Batman had been trying to tune out the singing as he led a handcuffed Joker down the corridors of Arkham Asylum, but when the next, repetitive verse started the clapping, he felt himself reaching his wits end. His hands tightened into fists as they walked past another cell of inmates, who joined Joker in singing and clapping.

"*clap* *clap* *clap* *clap* _Y_! *clap* *clap* *clap* *clap* _Y_! *clap* *clap* *clap* *clap* _Y, and Batsy was his name-o! There was a city had a pest…_"

"All right, that's enough!" roared Batman, whirling around. "The next person to say another word is getting their head slammed into the bars!"

Joker giggled hysterically. "Oh, it's just too easy to get your goat, Batsy!" he chuckled. "Everything from murdering innocent civilians to singing harmless songs, it all irritates you! You need to learn to relax – try some Bat-yoga! I hear it's great exercise, and you're already wearing the spandex!"

"What did I say about one more word?" growled Batman.

"Yeah, yeah, slam my head into the bars!" giggled Joker. "Like it'll do any good! You can knock out my teeth, but I can still hum! That's what you gotta learn to do, Batsy – look on the bright side of life! Every cloud has a silver lining, and it really is a beautiful old world, isn't it?"

Batman glared at him as he pulled him into the elevator, taking him down to the isolation ward. He had his arms folded across his chest while Joker whistled through broken teeth. He had been beaten to a pulp by Batman before being dragged back here, but he didn't seem to mind. Nothing wiped the smile off that face, thought Batman, gloomily.

"How's Robin?" asked Joker, smiling at him and breaking the silence as the elevator descended.

Batman didn't respond, and Joker shrugged. "Harley's fine."

"I didn't ask," retorted Batman.

"No, but it would have been polite to inquire about my other half, since I inquired about yours!" he giggled.

Batman still didn't respond, glaring at the door, and Joker sighed. "Oh, what's the matter, Batsy?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean," snapped Batman.

"You! This whole brooding thing!" Joker exclaimed, gesturing to him. "Would it really kill you to lighten up?"

"Would it really kill you to be more serious for once?" demanded Batman.

"Yep," said Joker. "You know they say depression is a real killer, and if you're depressed over a long period of time, you should think about getting some help. Talking to someone. You know I'm always available."

"Don't make me laugh," muttered Batman.

"Well, I keep trying!" chuckled Joker. "But I'm beginning to think it's a hopeless cause. Still, I guess that's why they call me crazy – trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Expecting a smile on that gloomy old face of yours…"

"Don't touch me," snapped Batman, shoving his hands away from him.

"Why? Robin the jealous type?" giggled Joker. "Aw, it's always so good to see you, Bats! You're such a gag!" he laughed. "You just don't see it, and that's why it's so funny! You take yourself so seriously, while everyone else in the world is laughing at you! Well, I'll keep trying to help you see it, buddy. One day you'll go crazy, I just know it, and then everything will be sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows! We can commit crimes together, just the two of us, laughing all the way! They'd never be able to stop us, the Joker and the Bat! All you gotta do is surrender to the madness. It's so easy – just takes a teeny, tiny push…"

"I said don't touch me!" snapped Batman, punching him in the face. Joker fell back, chuckling to himself, as the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

"Just get in there," muttered Batman, shoving him into the nearest cell. "And stay there this time."

"Oh, where would the fun be in that, Batsy?" giggled Joker. "And you'd get so bored without me, y'know. You need me."

"Like I need skin rash," muttered Batman.

Joker frowned. "Aw, it hurts me that you won't admit our little connection, Batsy! We've got something special, you and me, something the other freaks don't have. Admit it. There's something between us, some spark. I know you feel it too. Just say it."

"You're right, Joker," retorted Batman. "There is something between us."

He slammed the cell door shut and stormed off. "Was that a joke?" called Joker after him. "Something between us like steel bars? Was that it? It's not a good joke if you have to explain it, y'know! We have to find you a sense of humor before you go crazy, Bats – I've already got one unfunny sidekick weighing me down, and I can't afford two…"

The elevator doors shut, blocking out Joker's voice, for which Batman was grateful. He tried not to let his arch-nemesis grate on his nerves too much, but sometimes the constant babbling was just too much to take. Batman was a serious-minded man, after all, and he couldn't stand the nonsense the Joker rattled off sometimes. Like that crap about them having a connection. Despite what some people on the internet asserted, thought Batman with a grimace, there was nothing but loathing on his part toward the Joker. Loathing and annoyance. He was surprised anyone could feel anything else for the lunatic.

"Sir, this arrived for you this afternoon," said Alfred as Batman returned home, climbing out of the Batmobile. He handed him a sealed envelope, which bore the postmark _Conroy, Hamill, and Sorkin, Esq. _Batman recognized these as the lawyers who had settled his parents' will and estate after their untimely demise, and he broke the seal and read the following:

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_We were doing some rearranging in the office recently, and came across a letter in your father's file which had slipped to the back of the file cabinet. It was addressed to you, and we have included it, unopened, in this correspondence. We apologize for not delivering it to you sooner – had we known it existed, it would have been passed onto you promptly with the rest of his papers. We hope its tardiness has not caused you any unnecessary inconvenience._

_Regards,_

_Conroy, Hamill, and Sorkin, Esq._

"Sir? What is it?" asked Alfred, noticing Bruce's solemn face as he removed his mask.

"A letter from my father," murmured Bruce, withdrawing the sealed envelope. His hand shook slightly as he examined it, not daring to open it yet.

"Should I, sir?" asked Alfred, holding out his hand.

"No," muttered Bruce. "I can do it."

He gently opened the envelope and withdrew the letter, unfolding it. He took a deep breath and read:

_Dear Bruce,_

_I hope you will never have to read this letter. I hope it will never be necessary for me to explain this to you through empty, written words, rather than face to face. But since I have prepared my will, I have been speculating about what will happen one day when I'm no longer around, and in this matter, I would rather be safe than sorry. _

_By the time you read this, you will be old enough to understand, I hope, what I have to tell you. I hope it will not be hard for you to believe, and that the information will be a joy to your life, rather than any kind of unpleasant surprise._

_Bruce, you have a brother. A half-brother, who was born before I even met your mother. I kept it hidden not for my own sake, but for the woman I loved, Mary, the mother of this child. She is a married woman, you see. I apologize if that shocks you - if you knew the whole story, I hope you wouldn't blame either of us for our actions. Anyway, judge me harshly if you must, but the important thing is the child. Our child. Your brother. _

_He was born about seven years before you. If you haven't met him yet, you must find him, for my sake. I want my children to be together and help each other, especially if I am no longer there to help you both. Blood is thicker than water, and you share blood with him, so you have a duty to look out for him. His name is Jack Napier._

Bruce dropped the letter with a sudden gasp.

"Sir?" asked Alfred, concerned as the color drained from Bruce's cheeks suddenly. "What's wrong?"

"Jack Napier," breathed Bruce. "Jack Napier. That name…it's an alias of…the Joker!"

"The Joker, sir?" repeated Alfred. "What's he got to do with your father's letter?"

Bruce stared at him, shock and horror in his eyes. "I…I think…he's my brother."


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken some time for Alfred to try to convince Bruce to behave rationally after this revelation. He had gone through a flurry of emotions in rapid succession, from utter denial, to desperately demanding why, out of all the people in the world, it had to be Joker, to destructive, unstoppable fury.

"Sir, please, this tantrum has already cost several million dollars," said Alfred, trying to calm Bruce, who had just punched his fist through the Batcomputer, breaking it to pieces.

"Alfred, it isn't true, is it?" demanded Bruce, grabbing his shoulders desperately. "This letter – it's a hoax, right? Probably just some horrible joke, and I know who sets those up! Oh, I'm gonna break every bone in his body for this, that sick freak! He's gone too far this time!"

"How could he know you were Bruce Wayne, sir?" asked Alfred, gently. "You must try to be rational…"

"Why, if my brother's the Joker?!" roared Bruce. "Insanity obviously runs in my family! Oh God, he was right! He can't be right! That doesn't make any sense! And…and if he is my brother, he'll have to know…who I am! No! No, he can't know my secret identity! I can't trust that maniac with it!"

He rounded on Alfred angrily. "Why didn't you tell me, Alfred?! You must have known!"

"I did know…your father had a relationship with a married woman called Mary Napier," said Alfred, nodding slowly. "But I had no idea that relationship resulted in a child…nor that that child was the Joker."

Batman paused. "Maybe…maybe it isn't," he said, hopefully. "Joker…Joker doesn't remember who he is, really…maybe that name, Jack Napier, is somebody he met, somebody he killed, perhaps, so I'll have to hurt him even harder for murdering my brother! That criminal scum has hurt everyone close to me – Jason, Barbara, and now…"

He buried his face in his hands. "Oh God, Alfred, what if it's him?! I can't just forgive him for everything he's done, even if he is my brother! And I can't tell him about…about me! I can't trust him not to do something horrible to Bruce Wayne! He's not exactly the kind of guy who'd have any respect for family ties!"

He looked up at him. "Tell me what to do," he whispered. "Please, Alfred."

Alfred took him by the shoulders. "You must find out the truth, sir," he said, steadily. "If he is your brother, I hope you'll do your best to respect your father's wishes. If he is not…then you have nothing to worry about. But don't start panicking before you have all the facts."

Bruce nodded. "Yes. And there's a very easy way to find out. I'll just cross-reference his DNA against mine on the Batcomputer…"

He trailed off when he saw the smoking mess that used to be the Batcomputer in front of him. "Oh yeah, I broke that," he muttered.

He turned away, pulling on his mask again. "I'll just go get another sample of his DNA, then."

"Perhaps it might be better to wait until morning, sir…" began Alfred.

"You think I'm gonna be able to sleep tonight?" demanded Batman. "With the possibility of the Joker being my brother hanging over my head?! That's worse than any nightmare! And I have to end it now!" he said, leaping into the Batmobile and driving off into the night.

…

"Mmm, evening, Bats…Jesus Christ, what's that for?!" shouted Joker, as a bright light was shoved directly into his face. He had just been woken up and dragged to an interrogation room by the guards, and had been rubbing his eyes sleepily, trying to adjust to the darkness. But now he clapped his hands over his eyes, squinting through the brightness, just barely able to make out a dark figure standing above him.

"Trying to make me as blind as you are, swear to God…" muttered Joker.

"Shut up!" roared Batman, slamming his fist down on the table in front of him. He seized him by the collar. "I have some questions I need you to answer, and you're gonna help me out, or you won't be able to sleep for a month! Got that?!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," muttered Joker, rubbing his eyes. "Just ask 'em and let me get back to bed, would ya?"

"Jack Napier," growled Batman. "That's an alias of yours, isn't it? I need to know why! Is that the name of somebody you killed once? And I'm warning you, think very carefully before you answer this, or you'll be eating your meals through a straw!"

Joker looked surprised. "Wow, that sure makes a change from your normal questions. I was kinda expecting you to ask me 'where are they?' repeatedly while slapping me around."

"Don't tempt me," muttered Batman. "Just tell me what I wanna know!"

Joker stared at him. "You're seriously asking me about my past?" he demanded. "You know I don't remember nothing about that, nothing before you pushed me into that vat of acid…"

"I didn't push you into anything!" shouted Batman. "You fell! And maybe you shouldn't have been robbing that chemical factory in the first place if you didn't want something bad to happen to you! It's your fault you became what you are, not mine!"

"They call that rationalization in psychiatry, Batsy," said Joker, grinning. "You don't wanna face what you did, so you blame someone else, saying it's their own fault…."

Batman slammed his fist down in front of him again. "I want an answer! Who is Jack Napier?! Is it you?!"

"I dunno!" snapped Joker. "Why the sudden urge to find out?"

"I…discovered something about Jack Napier recently which makes me very interested to find out who he is," snapped Batman.

"What is it?" asked Joker.

"You answer _my _questions, not the other way round!" retorted Batman. "Now tell me! Who is Jack Napier?! Is that who you used to be?!""

"I dunno – I don't remember!" snapped Joker. "I just remember the name is familiar! Why doncha look him up on the internet if you're so interested? Doncha have Bat-Google on the Batcomputer?!"

Batman glared at him. "Look, there's something I have to tell you," he hissed, sitting down across from him. He studied him, while the Joker stared back, smiling at him.

"I…I found out…I…I…need a sample of your DNA," finished Batman at last.

"Uh…ok. Don't you have that on file already with the number of times you've beat the crap outta…son of a Bat!" he shrieked, as Batman suddenly jabbed a needle into his arm, holding his wrist down and withdrawing a syringe of blood.

"Christ, what the hell is the matter with you tonight?!" he demanded, rubbing his arm. "Did this Napier guy kill your girlfriend or something?!"

"Worse," snapped Batman, standing up and heading for the door.

"Oh. Killed your parents, huh?" he asked.

Batman froze, turning slowly to face Joker. "What?" he whispered. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, he's done something pretty big to you, you don't need to be the World's Greatest Detective to figure that out," snapped Joker. "If it ain't your girlfriend, it's gotta be your family or something!"

"Why…do you assume my parents are dead?" asked Batman, slowly.

Joker shrugged. "Just a hunch. They're either dead, or you ain't telling them about your Bat-hobby!" he giggled. "No parent would approve of that!"

Batman seized him, slamming him against the wall and staring into his eyes. He couldn't see any reflection of himself in them – he couldn't see any reflection of himself in any aspect of the Joker. It just couldn't be true…

"Uh…Bats…you're kinda creeping me out," said Joker slowly, as Batman gazed at him. "If you want me to kiss you, you can just say so…"

Batman dropped him to the ground suddenly. "Ok, call me, sweetheart!" giggled Joker after him as Batman stormed from the room, gritting his teeth. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.


	3. Chapter 3

Unfortunately due to Batman's temper tantrum, the Batcomputer was unable to immediately analyze the DNA samples, so Batman had to wait to find out the results that way. Instead he did some old-fashioned research, searching through archives and newspapers to discover what he could about Jack Napier and, to a lesser extent, Mary Napier.

He had found her file in the Wayne Enterprises database – Alfred had informed him she had been an employee of his father's there. Bruce did judge his father a little harshly for being so cliché as to sleep with his secretary, but when he saw her picture, he found he couldn't entirely blame him. "Wow," he whispered. "She was gorgeous."

Mary Napier had indeed been an incredibly beautiful young woman, but the smile in her picture looked slightly forced, and there was a deep sadness in her blue eyes. Bruce studied her face, trying to see anything of the Joker in her.

"It's a relief, in a way," he said to Alfred. "I mean, the Joker's not at all attractive, so it seems pretty unlikely that he could be a product of my father and a beautiful woman. But I don't suppose there's any way we can know for sure until I do the DNA test."

"Yes, sir," agreed Alfred, who was working on unpacking the parts for the new Batcomputer.

Bruce returned his attention to the documents, which included a copy of the police report announcing Mary Napier's death: _Found dead in apartment with throat cut alongside husband Joseph Napier, whose body contained multiple stab wounds. One son, Jack Napier, aged fifteen, missing, and considered most likely suspect. _

Bruce read the report with a sinking heart – that certainly sounded like the Joker. Only psychotic scum like that could have the heart to murder his own parents – well, one of his own parents anyway. He wondered if Jack Napier ever knew that his father wasn't really his father. Maybe that was why he had killed him, thought Bruce, grimly. Although Bruce had never remembered anyone coming forward claiming to be Thomas Wayne's son, and Jack would have to be crazy not to do that if he knew, considering that he'd be entitled to a share in the Wayne family fortune. Crazy like the Joker.

Bruce shut the file, opening another which contained information on Jack Napier, a convicted felon who had committed numerous heinous crimes. He studied his mugshot – the man resembled the Joker very much. Same facial structure, same eyes…but that wasn't evidence, Bruce reminded himself. He read through the reports on Napier's crimes – nothing to suggest that the man was fond of jokes or games or anything like the Joker.

He glanced at the photo again, and suddenly picked up a red pencil, tracing it around Napier's mouth into a big, red smile. And his heart suddenly sank as the pencil dropped from his hand. The resemblance was uncanny. It wasn't evidence…at least, it wasn't anything that would hold up in a court of law. But it was almost enough to convince Bruce that Jack Napier and the Joker were one and the same. It would certainly explain why he had been robbing a chemical factory the night he fell into that acid…

Bruce buried his face in his hands. "What am I going to do, Alfred?" he murmured. "If it's true…if my father were alive today, I'm sure he'd understand why…why I can't do as he asks. If he could see…what his sons have become…what we've both done with our lives…I'm sure he'd understand why I couldn't respect his wishes. Don't you think?"

Alfred was silent. "I don't know, sir," he murmured. "Lord knows I have no respect for the Joker, but if he does…share your blood…I cannot tell you what the right course of action is. You must listen to your heart."

"Yeah. I'm great at that," muttered Bruce sarcastically, pushing the papers away from him. "I'm not some emotionally stunted rich kid with issues or anything like that."

Alfred smiled. "I don't think you are, sir," he said, gently. "I think you're a brave man, a good man, and an honorable man. And I know…whatever the truth turns out to be, and whatever course of action you choose to take…it will be the right one."

Bruce smiled back. "Thanks, Alfred," he murmured.

A beeping from a machine in the corner interrupted the moment. "That's the alarm at Arkham," snapped Bruce, racing over. "Escaping patient alert…"

He trailed off when he saw which cell the alarm was coming from. "Aw, dammit," he muttered, racing over to throw on his mask again. "Should have beat him unconscious when I had the chance!"

"He hijacked a car just outside the gates," explained Dr. Leland, when Batman arrived at Arkham. The place was chaos, as usual after an inmate break-out, and the Joker tended to rack up more collateral damage than any of the others. Batman's fury grew when he saw the dead bodies lying in the corridor – there was no way a monster like that with no regard for human life could be related to him.

"Which direction was the car headed?" asked Batman.

"East," replied Dr. Leland. "I know that's not very helpful…"

"No, it's helpful enough," muttered Batman, punching in some coordinates on his wrist map. "He only has a certain number of hideouts to the east of here. I hope I can find him before he causes anymore trouble."

"Well, if anyone can find him, it's you," said Dr. Leland, smiling at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Batman.

"Uh…just that you tend to do a really good job of bringing him back here," said Dr. Leland, surprised at his anger. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend…"

"I'm not offended," retorted Batman. "I'm just a little…edgy at the moment. I'm having some…family issues."

"Oh. Sorry. Hope they work themselves out soon," said Dr. Leland as Batman strode off.

"Me too," he muttered, climbing back into the Batmobile.


	4. Chapter 4

"Honey, I'm home!" called the Joker, kicking open the door to the hideout he shared with Harley Quinn in the Funnibone Shipping Warehouse.

"Puddin'!" shrieked Harley, racing down the hall and launching herself into his arms. "You're back, you're back, you're back!"

"Yeah, cool it, kid, I had a difficult break-out," he said, pushing her gently away and stretching. "I was strangling a couple guards with my handcuffs and they kept slamming me against the wall so I wouldn't choke 'em to death. I still did, though. But this is after Batsy visited me and knocked me around some, so I'm feeling a little tender."

"Oh, puddin', sounds like you need a massage from your Harley girl," purred Harley, beginning to rub his shoulders. "A nice, full body massage, huh, puddin'?"

"Yeah, sounds good," he said, nodding. "And maybe a bath afterward or something."

"Mmm, I got some new bubble bath, and some jasmine oil that I can't wait to spread all over you," she murmured. "Hang on a second."

Joker collapsed in an armchair as Harley raced off, returning a second later with a bottle of oil. "Oh, my big, strong, puddin' is so tense," she whispered, pulling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. "He needs to relax his big, strong muscles and release all that tight, pent up tension, oh yes, he does."

She poured some oil into her hands and began rubbing it under his shirt, kneading his shoulders as she climbed into his lap. "How does that feel, puddin'?" she purred, rubbing herself into his lap as her hands massaged him.

"I'm pretty sure you can feel how that feels," murmured Joker, grinning as he moved his hips against hers.

She giggled, kissing him lustfully. Joker put his arms around her, adjusting her on his lap as they continued to kiss, and Harley's hands reached down for his belt…

And then the door fell inward. "Jesus, Bats, learn to knock!" shouted Joker, as Batman stormed into the room.

"Harley, off!" snapped Batman, grabbing Harley's arm and pulling her out of Joker's lap, with violent struggling on her part.

"Lemme go, you dumb Bat bully!" she shrieked, kicking out at him. Her grip on his arm slipped because of the oil, and Batman dropped her violently to the ground, winding her.

"Up," snapped Batman, glaring at Joker and holding up a pair of handcuffs. Joker gingerly crossed his legs, hissing in discomfort.

"I'm kinda…already up, if you know what I mean," he muttered. "Just cool your jets for a second until I get a little more comfortable, would ya?"

"Don't give me images like that!" hissed Batman, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Why? You think it's because of you?" chuckled Joker. "Well, I admit you being here probably ain't helping it go down…"

They heard a bang from the hallway, and then several more men rushed into the room, pointing guns at them. "They with you?" asked Joker of Batman, puzzled.

"They're with me," snapped an unpleasant voice, as Carmine Falcone entered the room, smoking on a cigarette. He saw Batman and smiled. "Well, I'm just seeing all my favorite people today! Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Nah, just an attempted arrest," said Joker, shrugging. "What do you want, Carmine?"

"What do I want?" repeated Falcone. "I want the money you took from me, Joker. My guys were down by the warehouses last week waiting for a shipment of drugs, but you killed them and took the cash that was meant for the smugglers! I lost millions!"

"They shouldn't have been on my turf," retorted Joker. "And you shouldn't be smuggling drugs into Gotham anyway – think of the children!" he laughed.

"You always think you're so funny, clown," hissed Falcone. "But you ain't. Now cough up the cash or my guys are gonna fill you full of lead."

"Yeah, right," snorted Joker. "Not with Batsy here. Anyway, if you shoot me, you'll never get the money back."

Falcone nodded slowly. "You know what, J? You're right."

He suddenly grabbed Harley's arm, dragging her to her knees and pointing a gun at her head. "You make one move, Batfreak, and the doll gets a bullet in her brain, see?" hissed Falcone, as Batman started forward.

Batman stopped in his tracks as Harley struggled uselessly against Falcone.

"I'm taking the doll with me, J," said Falcone, backing out of the room and dragging Harley after him. "You got twenty-four hours to cough up that money before I blow a hole in her pretty little skull. And just to make sure you don't follow me…"

He nodded at one of his men, who grabbed the handcuffs from Batman and secured one loop on Joker's wrist, and the other on Batman's, and then chained them to the radiator. The henchman removed Batman's utility belt and then followed Falcone out of the warehouse, with Harley still screaming and struggling to be free. "Get your filthy meathooks off me, you dumb jerk! Mr. J! Mr. J, help!"

Batman and Joker could only watch her being dragged off, handcuffed as they were to the radiator and each other. "Oh, brother," muttered Joker.

"You said it," growled Batman, wondering how on earth they were getting out of this one.


	5. Chapter 5

Batman struggled against the handcuffs after they left, while Joker slid down onto the ground, his back against the radiator, as his free hand reached into his jacket for a cigarette. "Well, smoke 'em if you got 'em!" he chuckled as he fumbled for his lighter.

"What are you doing?" demanded Batman. "We don't have time for that!"

"Oh yeah, we're clearly gonna be outta these handcuffs any minute now," said Joker, sarcastically, lighting up the cigarette. "Don't make me laugh, Batsy."

"We'll never find a way out of this situation if you're just sitting there!" snapped Batman.

"Well, what good will me jumping around do?" asked Joker, puffing on his cigarette.

"It would show that you're trying to do something," muttered Batman, tugging against the handcuffs. "Don't you care about Harley getting shot?"

Joker shrugged. "The kid'll get outta it somehow. She's a smart girl. Feisty little fighter, too. Those goons don't stand a chance against her."

"How romantic," muttered Batman, sarcastically. "I guess it's good that you have faith in her ability to fend for herself, but if someone I cared about was in danger, I couldn't just sit idly by smoking and trust them to find a way out of it!"

"Yep, that's part of your problem – lack of trust," said Joker, nodding. "Also the compulsive need to be a hero all the time. You need to try to relax – you'll live longer. Want one?" he asked, offering a cigarette to Batman.

"I thought you wanted me to live longer," retorted Batman.

Joker shrugged again. "If I were you, I wouldn't worry about things like smoking. Some criminal will off you long before the lung cancer catches up with you. Hopefully me!" he chuckled.

"Well, you're not gonna do it handcuffed to me," snapped Batman. "I'll definitely see it coming."

He gave one final tug on the handcuffs, but realized it wasn't doing any good. He sighed heavily, sitting down next to Joker and looking around the room, trying to figure out some way out of their situation, and trying to ignore the smoke that Joker blew out in his direction. He was seriously considering whether there was some way he could cut his own hand off just to get away from him, when Joker spoke.

"You get any further with that Jack Napier stuff?" he asked. "Was my DNA helpful?"

"Not really," said Batman. "I haven't had time to analyze it yet."

"Why's it so important anyway?" asked Joker, puffing on his cigarette.

Batman stared at the ground, and then looked at Joker, taking a deep breath. "Jack Napier…is my brother."

Joker just stared at him. "My half-brother," continued Batman. "My Dad's son, before he met my Mom. I only just found out he existed, and so I've been trying to find out who he is. If he's somebody you killed or…if he's still alive, in one form or another," he said, gazing at him.

"So…if I'm Jack Napier, that means…" said Joker, slowly.

"You're my half-brother, yeah," muttered Batman.

Joker beamed. "Little bro!" he cried, throwing his free arm around his neck and embracing him tightly. "Oh, my batty baby brother, I always knew there was something between us! And I was pretty sure I wasn't gay, so this explains everything!"

"Please don't call me little bro," muttered Batman, shoving him away. "Especially since I'm in no way sure that's who you are."

"You got it, little bro!" chuckled Joker. "I ain't the kinda guy who jumps to conclusion, baby brother! I won't even consider the possibility until it's confirmed, blood of my blood!"

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," retorted Batman. "Of course you'd make it into some kinda joke."

"I don't have to make it into a joke – it just _is _a great joke!" chuckled Joker. "Batman and Joker, brothers, born of the same father, sharing the same heredity traits!" His grin grew even wider suddenly. "Which means one day you're gonna snap the way I have, Batsy! Oh, I knew it! I knew if I wished upon a star, my dream was gonna come true!"

Batman glared at him but said nothing. "It's eating you up inside, ain't it?" chuckled Joker. "That's funny, little bro, I ain't gonna lie. Not that I should be laughing at the pain of my own family members, really…"

"Just shut up!" roared Batman, raising his fist. "Or I'm gonna…"

"What, Batsy?" giggled Joker, beaming at him. "What are you gonna do to your big brother?"

Batman slowly lowered his fist, the urge to strike Joker almost uncontrollable, but held back by the possibility that he might be hitting the only family member he had left. Which was a terrifying thought.

"So…does this mean you're gonna share your big secret with me?" giggled Joker. "You know you can tell me anything, baby brother!"

"I can't trust you," growled Batman. "Family or no family…I'm still gonna have to treat you like a common criminal. If you still insist on committing crimes, I'm gonna have no choice but to take you in."

"Aw, you don't give special treatment to blood relations?" chuckled Joker. "I guess you ain't the nepotistic type, Bats! I wonder which side of our family you get that from."

"There is no _our_ family!" roared Batman. "Now drop it, Joker!"

"You got it, brosef!" said Joker, saluting. "No more familial speculation! Wouldn't want my batty baby brother to throw a temper tantrum!"

Batman was about to punch him in the face, family or not, when a different group of men suddenly stormed into the hideout, led by another notorious gangster, Sal Maroni. He saw Batman and Joker chained to the radiator and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What the hell is this?" he growled.

"Sex game that got outta control!" giggled Joker. "Oops, sorry, Bats! I won't make jokes about that now – there's nothing funny about incest…"

Batman punched him hard in the face. "What are you doing here, Maroni?" he growled, turning to face the gangster.

"Hitting your own brother – what would Daddy say?" muttered Joker, rubbing his jaw.

Batman was grateful that Maroni didn't seem to hear – he was distracted by the noise of his henchmen ripping the hideout apart. "Where's the money, J?" demanded Maroni, grabbing him by the collar and lifting him up, along with Batman, who was dragged up with him.

"What money?" asked Joker.

"The money you stole from my guys who were waiting for the shipment of guns the other week!" roared Maroni. "I know it was you, you sick freak – they all died with smiles on their faces!"

"Coulda been framed," retorted Joker. "There are a lotta psychos out there who wanna be me – kinda runs in my family, actually…"

"Boss, we found three million in the clown's mouth over the bed," said a henchman, entering the room and dumping two huge bags of cash in front of Maroni.

"That's mine, and a little more," said Maroni, releasing Joker and coming over to look at the cash. He signaled for his henchmen to take it away, and beckoned a couple more forward.

"Well, since I've got what I came for, and since I hate to waste this opportunity of killing two birds with one stone, I'm just gonna say goodbye, J and Bats," said Maroni. "And good riddance to both of you. Gotham is gonna be a better place without you in it."

"I think you mean a boring place!" laughed Joker. "Plus if you kill Bats, the tourist trade is gonna plummet…"

"Kill 'em," interrupted Maroni, as he strode toward the door.

"Yes, boss," said the henchmen, raising their guns.

"Don't you panic, little bro," said Joker, grinning at Batman. "Your big brother will handle this."

Before Batman could respond, Joker squirted two jets of acid from the flower on his buttonhole straight into the henchmen's faces. As they screamed and fell to the ground, Joker squirted another jet at the handcuffs, detaching themselves from the radiator, although they were still chained to each other.

"Bro, window!" shouted Joker, nodding across the room.

"Kill them!" shrieked Maroni, as Batman and Joker dashed toward the window of the warehouse. A hail of bullets followed them as they smashed through the glass, landing on the dock outside.

The bullets continued to follow them as Batman leapt to his feet first, grabbing Joker's wrist and dashing off along the pier. He pulled up abruptly as the dock ended, with nothing but water a good several feet below them.

Joker didn't stop, however, racing off the edge of the pier and dragging Batman down with him. They plummeted into the water together, and then rose, sputtering for breath.

"You know…even though two separate gang lords just attacked me...I'm pretty sure you still have more enemies than me, little bro!" giggled Joker, as he treaded water.

"What madness possessed me to tell you about Jack Napier?" growled Batman, swimming with one hand toward the opposite shore as Joker paddled behind him.

"Probably the same madness that runs in our family!" laughed Joker.

Batman gritted his teeth, trying to ignore him, as they struggled over to the opposite bank. Batman managed to pull himself onto shore with one arm, while helping Joker up with the other.

"Thanks, little bro," said Joker. "Watch your hands," he added, as he prepared to spray another jet of acid onto the handcuffs. "Wouldn't wanna melt the hand off my own baby brother."

"We need to find out where Falcone is hiding," muttered Batman when he was free of the handcuffs.

"You're welcome, baby bro," said Joker, taking off his jacket and wringing the water out of it.

"Look, for the last time, stop this brother nonsense!" snapped Batman, rounding on him. "I'm pretty sure you're not Jack Napier, all right?! Not that I'd want to be related to Jack Napier anyway, that disgusting piece of criminal scum who murdered his own family!"

"Well, not his brother," said Joker, grinning.

"No, but his mother Mary and his adoptive father Joseph!" snapped Batman.

Joker stared at him. "My parents' names were Mary and Joseph? Y'know what that means, Batsy?" he whispered. He beamed suddenly. "I'm Jesus!" he exclaimed.

"You're not Jesus!" snapped Batman. "And you're not my brother! It's all coincidence, and…lies, and…"

He trailed off with a growl. "Jack Napier, whether he's you or not, was a bad man," he muttered. "I don't want to be related to a bad man."

Joker said nothing, pulling his jacket back on. "You loved our Dad, huh?" he asked. Batman glared at him, and he rolled his eyes. "All right – you loved _your_ Dad, huh?"

"Of course I loved my Dad!" snapped Batman. "He was a good man…"

"Maybe so," agreed Joker. "But if Jack Napier murdered his adoptive Dad…I guess maybe that's an indication that…he might not have been a good man."

"Or Jack Napier was a psycho," muttered Batman.

"Possible," said Joker, nodding. "Especially if he is me. Don't get this kinda crazy overnight!" he giggled. "But I mean…what kinda kid has a happy childhood and then murders his parents?"

"What are you saying?" asked Batman. "Are you trying to justify his murder…"

"Batsy, I couldn't justify anything to you," retorted Joker. "We don't share the same thought process, even if we do share the same DNA. Your mind is all boring and sterile, and mine's all happy and creative. All I'm saying is you don't know all the facts about Jack Napier. I mean, he obviously didn't know he was your brother – why didn't somebody tell him? Your Dad or his Mom? Why did they just leave him with a man who probably resented the kid for not being his? And then after their murder, what happened? Did your Dad just not care about finding his son? Did he give up on him because he thought he was a psycho or something? Why didn't anyone in your family look for him? Why didn't your Dad tell you you had a brother earlier? Where were you when he might have needed you? You had your Dad, who was a good man, and I guess your Mom, who was probably a good woman…who did Jack Napier have? But rather than think about that, you condemn him for the life he led, the life he probably didn't have much choice in leading. I just think a good man would be a little more sympathetic, especially toward his own flesh and blood."

Batman was silent. "I know why you do it, though," said Joker, softly. "You just can't accept it. If I'm your brother, you can't accept that my blood flows in your veins, because it means that one day you might go as crazy as I have. You can't accept that Jack Napier is your brother, because that means that you share DNA with a criminal, and a murderer. A bad man, like you said. You're afraid of that. You're afraid you have the potential to become a bad man too. And you're afraid of your hero status being damaged by association. But you know a real hero wouldn't care about stuff like that. But you do, and that makes you feel small and selfish. And Batman's not used to feeling like that."

"You don't know anything about how I feel," muttered Batman. "I'm not afraid of finding my brother. I just don't want it to be you."

"Well, it'd be quite a jest of fate!" giggled Joker. "Guess we have to wait for the punchline though, huh?"

Batman nodded. Joker clapped him on the back. "Now c'mon, stop brooding and let's go rescue your sister-in-law! I'm just kidding – we're not married, little bro!" he giggled.

Batman sighed and followed him.


	6. Chapter 6

"So what's the plan, little bro?" asked Joker, as he and Batman stood outside the apartment complex. Carmine Falcone owned a penthouse on the top floor, and judging by the guards waiting outside on the balcony, he was definitely at home. "Stride into the lobby, take the elevator to the top floor, knock on the door and shoot whoever answers it in the face?"

"You're never subtle, are you?" growled Batman, rolling his eyes.

"This from the man who owns about a hundred bat-gadgets," retorted Joker, grinning. "Subtlety isn't a family trait, baby brother."

Batman gritted his teeth, holding up the spare Batclaw he kept in his car and pulling a few feet of cord out of it, which he started wrapping around Joker's waist. "Evening!" said Joker, cheerfully, as passersby stared at him and Batman curiously. "My little bro and I are just out for a stroll…"

"Shut up!" snapped Batman. He checked the knot and then muttered, "Ok, hang on," grabbing Joker around the waist and shooting the batclaw up onto the balcony.

"Little bro? Are you sure this thing is safe? Little bro? Little bro!" shrieked Joker as the Batclaw suddenly reeled in, shooting them toward the building. Joker's face collided with a window with a crack as Batman steadied them against the wall.

"You did that on purpose," muttered Joker, glaring up at him and cupping his bleeding nose.

"I told you not to call me little bro," retorted Batman calmly, as he began to climb up the side of the building. "Now keep up."

"You slow down!" snapped Joker. "Unlike my batty brother, I don't spend my free time practicing rope climbing!"

Batman sighed but slowed down. "So when's the celebrity gonna pop their head outta the window?" asked Joker at last.

"What the hell are you talking about?" demanded Batman.

"I've seen it on TV – you and Robin are climbing up the side of a fake-looking building, and a random celebrity always looks out the window and talks to you. Personally I hope it's Colonel Klink this week, just so I can beat the crap outta him, and have words like 'pow' and 'wham' pop up on screen," said Joker.

Batman looked at him and then went back to climbing, trying to ignore his insanity. "I'm tired!" whined Joker. "Are we at the top yet?"

"No!" snapped Batman. "You can see we're not!"

"Well, I ain't climbing anymore," said Joker, letting go of the rope. He fell a little ways, but the rope caught him around the waist, and he just hung there, folding his arms across his chest and looking up at Batman expectantly.

Batman sighed heavily, and then began pulling Joker up after him, wishing for the hundredth time since they left Joker's hideout that Arkham had been on the way here, so he could have dropped Joker off there and saved Harley on his own. But he didn't want to waste any more time than necessary rescuing her – unlike Joker, he was worried that Falcone might try to hurt her.

They reached the penthouse balcony at last, and Batman carefully climbed over the edge of the railing. The two guards had their back to him, talking to each other, and Batman crept over and suddenly slammed their heads together, knocking them out.

"Huh. No pow and wham," said Joker, slightly disappointed.

"Shut up and let me think of a way to get inside without them noticing," growled Batman. He was trying to figure out the alarm system on the door when he heard a grating sound, and turned to see Joker lifting off a vent cover.

"Every building's got vents!" giggled Joker. "And they never alarm them, like the suckers they are!"

"Yeah…I guess we could go in that way," muttered Batman, climbing inside the ventilation shaft.

"It's kinda unfair that I got both the brains and the looks in the family, huh, little bro?" sighed Joker, grinning as they made their way down the tunnel. "Still, I guess you got…uh…um…you got...uh...help me out here, Batsy, what have you got?"

Batman clapped a hand over his mouth, pointing through the grating. Harley was tied to a chair in the room below, and Falcone was talking to her, with Batman's utility belt draped over one shoulder.

"…promised the Joker I wouldn't shoot you for twenty-four hours, but I never said I wouldn't touch you," Falcone murmured, tilting her chin up to him. "He's a very lucky man. You're a hot piece of ass, you know. I don't even know why you waste yourself on that clown when there are gorgeous guys like me around. I'm sure you're a real live wire in bed."

"Don't compare me to that bitch Livewire!" snapped Harley. "And trust me, you couldn't handle me in bed, pal."

"That sounds like a challenge to me," murmured Falcone, grinning. "And I do deserve a reward after all the trouble Joker has caused me. I think it's only right that you make it up to me, sweetheart."

Harley sighed. "Ok. Don't say I didn't warn you," she murmured, as Falcone bent over to untie her, kissing and caressing her shoulders and neck.

Batman raised a fist to punch his way through the grate, but it was intercepted by the Joker. "She's got this, little bro," he whispered. "Don't spoil the fun!"

Harley suddenly kicked upward, her knee colliding with Falcone's groin. He hissed in pain, falling back, as Harley broke through the last of her bonds. She punched him several times and then whirled around, picking up the chair and slamming it into his face.

"See, ya gotta warm up with a little beating foreplay!" she shouted over Falcone's shrieks of agony. "That gets my motor revving!"

She slammed the chair down hard onto his head, knocking him unconscious. "What a woman!" whispered Joker, grinning. Batman rolled his eyes as Harley sighed, looking around forlornly.

"Now I'm all revved up with no place to go. If only Mr. J were here…"

"Wish granted, pumpkin!" said Joker, kicking out the grate and sliding into the room.

"Puddin'!" she shrieked, leaping into his arms. "Oh, you came to rescue me, just like a knight in shining armor!"

"Well, I couldn't leave my cute little cupcake at the mercy of a brute like that," cooed Joker, patting her on the head. "But I knew you could handle yourself, really. Batsy was worried, but he don't know what a naughty little minx you are."

"Oh, puddin'," gasped Harley, mauling his mouth. "Puddin', your Harley girl got so excited beating the bad gangster to a bloody pulp."

"Mmm, and I got excited watching you, Harley girl," murmured Joker, kissing her.

They suddenly heard pounding on the door. "Boss? Boss! You ok? Aw, Christ, get the door open!"

"Out through the vent, now!" snapped Batman, grabbing his utility belt from Falcone's unconscious body and buckling it on as the guards outside began shooting the door down.

Joker sighed heavily. "Always when I'm in the mood, company shows up," he muttered.

"Aw, c'mon, Mr. J, just a quickie!" pleaded Harley, clinging onto him.

"They're gonna break in any minute and start shooting us!" exclaimed Batman.

"Well, when you put it like that, it's almost too tempting to resist having a quickie," agreed Joker, chuckling.

"You're both nuts!" cried Batman, grabbing them each by the arm and shoving them toward the vent. "Just get in there and go!"

The door was kicked down as the henchmen burst into the room. "It's Batman! Shoot him!" one shouted, and then a hail of bullets came straight at them. Batman shoved Joker and Harley to the ground, reaching into his belt for a Batarang. He threw two at once, and they hit the henchmen in the hands, making them drop the guns with a cry. Then Batman disappeared down the vent, following Joker and Harley out of the room and back out onto the balcony.

"Hang on, both of you!" he shouted, grabbing them around the waist and then running off the edge. Harley screamed as the ground came up fast, but Batman pressed a button on his suit and a pair of wings shot from the back. They glided over the city and gradually down to the ground.

Batman released Harley and she grimaced. "Jesus, Bats, I think you made me pee my pants! I definitely feel all wet down there…"

"Well, you did say beating the gangster excited you!" giggled Joker.

"It's blood," said Batman, noticing the red stain on Harley's costume.

"Oh my God – I been shot!" shrieked Harley, clutching her stomach.

"No, you haven't!" snapped Batman. "There's no bullet wound! The blood's leaked onto you from…"

He looked down at his waist, where a dark red blotch stained his suit.

"Oh my God – _you've _been shot!" exclaimed Joker, racing over. "Oh, my poor batty baby brother – I'll get them for this! Nobody except me hurts my little bro and lives!"

"I haven't been shot," growled Batman, shoving him away. "I would have felt it! They shot something in my belt, which leaked…"

He reached into his belt and pulled out a broken glass vial. "It's your blood sample," he murmured.

He sighed, replacing the broken glass in his belt. "I'll just get another sample when we get back to Arkham," he muttered.

"Or, to save your own flesh and blood some pain, you could just collect one of my blood samples from the medical wing!" said Joker, brightly.

"I could do that," admitted Batman, nodding.

"This is your blood, Mr. J?" asked Harley. She beamed. "Well, I don't mind being covered in your blood, puddin'! But why does Batsy have it in his belt? Is he a vampire?"

Batman glared at Joker. "I don't think I need to tell you that what I said earlier about a certain Jack Napier should stay just between the two of us," he growled.

"You got it, Batsy!" giggled Joker. "He carries it around the way sweethearts carry around a lock of each other's hair, pooh," explained Joker, turning to her. "Y'know, something romantic to remind themselves of each other when they're apart."

Batman sighed heavily, slapping handcuffs on both Joker and Harley and dragging them toward the Batmobile as Harley started pressing the Joker to carry a sample of her blood around. He guessed even Joker joking about them being in love was better than Joker claiming to be his brother. Because scarily the latter might be true.


	7. Chapter 7

"I can never thank you enough for bringing them back, Batman," said Dr. Leland as Batman dragged Joker and Harley down the cell block corridor in Arkham Asylum.

"Yeah, I'm missed if I'm away from my sweet little ha-hacienda for too long!" giggled Joker.

Dr. Leland gestured to a cell on the left hand side. "Just put them in here for now – we still have to clean up the bloodstains Joker left in his cell after the breakout."

"You want them sharing a cell?" demanded Batman. "Are you sure?"

Dr. Leland shrugged. "We don't have a choice right now – we're completely full."

"Oh, the gang's all here, huh?" chuckled Joker, looking around the crowded cell block.

"Oh puddin', if we're sharing a room, that means we can have some quality playtime after all that violence!" purred Harley.

Batman stared at Dr. Leland. "You're positive you want them sharing a cell? I'm sure we can make some other inmates room together…"

There was a general uproar at this, and Dr. Leland shouted over the noise, "No, it's ok, Batman! They can share!"

He nodded, shoving them both inside the cell. "Dr. Leland, I was wondering if I could have a quick talk with you in private," he said, turning to her. "I need to borrow something from your medical facility."

"Of course, Batman," she said. "Come with me to my office."

Batman obeyed, glancing back once at the Joker, who smiled and waved. "See you later, Bro-man! Sorry, I mean Batman!" he chuckled.

Batman glared at him and then slammed the door to the cell block shut. "Ok, puddin', let's play," cooed Harley, pressing herself against him.

"Mmm, pumpkin pie, Daddy needs a small favor from you," breathed Joker, kissing her tenderly.

"Anything, puddin', you know that!" whispered Harley. "I'll do anything you want, any way you want…ow!" she shrieked as she felt something stab into her arm.

"Sorry, pooh bear, this is time sensitive," said Joker, removing the blood-filled syringe from her arm. "We'll have playtime in a little bit, ok?"

"Mr. J? Where are you going? Mr. J!" shrieked Harley, as Joker fiddled with the lock, removing the bit of gum he had placed there before Batman shut the door, preventing it from locking properly. He pushed it open, racing down the hall with Harley screaming after him. "You dumb jerk! I don't wanna have playtime with you ever again! It's over, Mr. J! You hear me?! It's over!"

"Love ya, Harl!" he called back.

"Did you hear that, Red?" sighed Harley adoringly as the cell block door slammed shut. "He loves me!"

Once outside the cell block, Joker looked around warily for the guards, and then slipped down the hall toward the medical wing. He paused in the shadows as a doctor emerged, and then crept into the infirmary, racing over to the refrigerator where the blood samples were kept. He grabbed an empty vial and emptied the syringe with Harley's blood into it, then took a label off his blood sample, stuck it onto Harley's blood, and popped it into the refrigerator under his name. He pocketed his own blood, and then dived under the operating table as the door opened.

"Why can't Batman get his own sample of Joker's blood?" one of the doctors was saying to the other, entering the room.

"I dunno – why don't you ask him?" said the other.

"What, question Batman?" said the first doctor. "You think I wanna get my arm broken? I've worked with lunatics long enough to know that you shouldn't ask questions – just smile and nod."

"You think Batman belongs in here with the rest of them?" asked the other doctor, taking the sample of blood that Joker had just switched.

"I don't see why not – he's a costumed freak. Probably has more in common with the folks in here than the folks out there," said the first doctor as they left the room.

"Boys, you don't know the half of it!" giggled Joker after the door shut. He waited for the footsteps to die away and then skipped back to the cell block.

"What was so urgent, puddin'?" asked Harley, coming over to kiss him as he returned to their cell, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh, I just needed to pull a little switcheroo," chuckled Joker. "Exchange your blood for mine," he said, taking the vial of his blood out of his pocket.

"Why?" asked Harley, puzzled. "Unless you want me to carry your blood around as a love token, like Batsy…"

Joker giggled. "Harley, the reason he had my blood is because he needs to analyze my DNA to see if we're brothers."

Harley stared at him in shock. "Brothers?" she repeated. "You and the Bat…are brothers?!" she shrieked.

"What?" demanded Poison Ivy next door, looking up from her plant in horror. "But…but I kissed Batman! And he…he shares genes with that freak?! Oh God, I gotta wash out my mouth!" she gasped, rushing over to her sink.

"B.S., J," retorted Two-Face opposite them, flipping his coin. "I dunno what kinda joke you think that is, but it ain't funny."

"Well, it would explain why Mr. J got so upset when I tried to kill Bats that one time," said Harley, thoughtfully.

"I think it makes perfect sense," spoke up Jonathan Crane, looking up from his book. "You're both as mad as each other."

"C'mon, guys, it's a joke," said Two-Face. "It's a joke, right, J?"

Joker shrugged. "Could be. Could not be. You losers will never know, though. And neither will Batsy, until he analyzes a sample of my blood."

"But…that's my blood he's gonna be analyzing, puddin'," said Harley, frowning.

Joker grinned. "Precisely, pooh bear," he said, kissing her nose.

"I don't understand," she said, confused.

"No, of course you don't, you silly little baby," he said, patting her head. "But the simple fact of the matter is, I can't take the risk."

"What risk?" asked Harley.

"The risk that Batsy and I are related, of course," replied Joker. "If he analyzed an actual sample of my blood and found out that we are brothers…it would ruin the joke between us. Batsy would totally break down. It'd drive him nuts, but not in a fun way. He'd become even more brooding and miserable. And he wouldn't fight me anymore. He'd have ethical dilemmas about hurting his own flesh and blood. He'd try to help me, support me, cure me of my insanity, rather than just beating me to a bloody pulp night after night. I can't let that happen. I can't let a stupid family tie ruin everything we got. I have to be the responsible older brother, and protect my little bro from harm. So that's what I'm doing."

"But don't you wanna know if it's true, Mr. J?" asked Harley. "I know I'd be curious. And not knowing would just eat me up inside."

He shrugged. "Knowing stuff is overrated, Harl. You shouldn't let the truth ruin things. For example, Batsy's brother is a guy called Jack Napier. Now suppose he analyzed my blood and found out that we were related. That means I'd be this guy Jack Napier. And I'm not sure I wanna be him, y'know. I'm not sure of what his backstory is, and I'm not sure if I'd like to have it. Maybe he's got a whole bunch of emotional baggage, baggage that I'm sure Batsy would wanna help me deal with, so I can remember who I used to be and return to a real life, with memories and connections and a past."

He made a face. "No, that kinda stuff ain't for the Joker, thank you very much. More fun not to know who you are, and just be whoever you wanna be."

He held up the vial of his own blood, swirling it around. "And no one's who you think they are, my dear. So why spoil the fun?"


	8. Chapter 8

Batman's heart was pounding as he waited for the DNA results to be processed through the Batcomputer. It had taken a couple days to rebuild the machine, and transferring the data over had taken a few more days, and still wasn't complete. And annoyingly, little glitches appeared from time to time when Batman accessed the files – he would open Two-Face's file and see information about the Riddler. Alfred was trying to look into the database error, which took even more time.

Bruce had barely slept in all that time – he had just lain awake in bed, wondering what on earth he was going to do in the horrific possibility that the Joker was his brother.

"Family or not…it doesn't matter," he told Alfred. "He's a criminal. I can't have any sympathy with a criminal."

"So you would disregard your father's wishes?" asked Alfred, gently.

Bruce nodded slowly. "I…I don't think I have a choice, if it is him. I can't just…accept him as my brother. It's impossible."

Alfred was silent. "For what it's worth…I don't believe Jack Napier murdered his mother," he murmured.

"Why not?" asked Bruce. "Doesn't seem out of character for a criminal."

"The Napier family…visited Wayne Manor for a Christmas party once," said Alfred, slowly. "While they were here, Mr. Napier, that is, Mary's husband…lost his temper. He struck her…and the boy Jack Napier rushed to defend her. And then he struck him. He treated them both appallingly, hitting them and calling them the most dreadful names…it would not surprise me if the husband was the one who killed his wife. The son was hardly likely to defend his mother and then murder her a few days later. I assume he killed his adoptive father as vengeance for her murder."

Bruce was silent. He imagined for a moment what it might have been like, as Jack Napier, to see his mother die at the hands of the man he believed to be his father. He couldn't conceive of that kind of pain and rage, although he could certainly understand the pain at a parent meeting a violent death.

"What's your point, Alfred?" he asked, quietly.

"My point is if the Joker is this Jack Napier, perhaps you can understand a little of where his madness comes from," said Alfred. "Perhaps you can help him. You both lost your parents very young, sir, to a terrible crime. You both know what that does to a mind. You know how utterly alone you feel..."

"It didn't turn me into a murdering, psychotic maniac," retorted Bruce.

"You're hardly leading a normal life though, sir," said Alfred, gently. "And if that treatment was normal at the hands of his adoptive father, is it any wonder the boy turned to crime? Pain and violence was obviously all he knew. He never had a home like you, sir, a safe place with two loving parents…"

"Two loving parents who were taken from me," snapped Bruce. "At least Napier never knew what that was like."

"No. He never knew what love was to lose it," said Alfred, quietly. "Or maybe he did. I don't know, sir. And neither do you. You don't know any of the facts. I told your father that his affair with Mrs. Napier was unwise, but he wouldn't listen to me. I hope you do listen to me in regards to her son. If the Joker is Jack Napier, your father's child…you have a duty to try to help him, sir."

"I keep putting him back in Arkham to help him," replied Bruce. "He doesn't want to be helped."

"Does that stop you from trying, sir?" asked Alfred, gently.

Bruce sighed. "Let's just wait for the results," he muttered.

Now as the data finished analyzing, Bruce's mind was racing with the horrible possibility that he was going to find out the truth, and it wouldn't be the truth he wanted. He knew what Alfred had said was right, and he knew that if it turned out the Joker was his brother, as difficult as it would be for him, he would have to take care of him. He would have to trust him. It was probably suicide, but he couldn't do anything else in good conscience.

The computer beeped. "Analysis complete," it said. Bruce opened the file, his heart stopping in dread. And then starting again in relief when he saw the result.

"Negative," he whispered, smiling slowly. "It's negative."

He let out the breath he'd been holding with a cry of joy. "Alfred, it's not him!" he cried, happily. "It's not him! Oh, thank God!"

"Yes, indeed, sir," agreed Alfred. "And of course I'm very happy with the result. But this rather presents a new kind of problem for you. You must find out what's happened to Jack Napier."

"That's not a problem, Alfred," sighed Bruce, standing up. "After this, nothing is a problem. God, that's a lucky break! I don't know what I would have done if it'd been him."

"You would have done the right thing, sir," replied Alfred. "I hope."

"I hope so too, Alfred," said Bruce, nodding. "But I'm glad we'll never know."

He headed for the door, intending to change into the Batsuit and tell Joker the good news. "Hang on, sir," said Alfred, staring at the screen. "It says the sample you've analyzed has been matched in the database as that of Harley Quinn."

Bruce sighed. "We really need to get those glitches under control," he muttered. "Work on that while I'm gone, will you, Alfred?"

…

"Little bro!" exclaimed Joker, beaming at Batman as he entered the cell block. "How ya doing today, blood of my blood?"

"Joke's over, Joker," retorted Batman.

"Well, maybe for you, Batsy!" giggled Joker.

"Hey, Bats, is that true about you and J being brothers?" asked Two-Face. "He's been telling everyone that, but it's a gag, right?"

Batman glared at Joker. "I thought I asked you not to spread it around," he muttered.

"Too good a gag to keep to myself, little bro!" chuckled Joker.

Batman once again mentally thanked God for not having to trust the Joker with his real identity, if this was how well he could keep a secret. "Well, it gives me great pleasure to announce to everyone in this cell block that the Joker is not my brother," he said, loudly. "I have the DNA evidence to prove it. So you can drop all of this little bro stuff right now."

Joker shrugged, smiling. "Still, it was a good joke while it lasted, wasn't it?"

"I knew it was B.S.," retorted Two-Face. "Along with all that crap about J being Jesus."

"Yeah, I knew dark, brooding, and handsome couldn't be related to the skinny, pale clown freak," agreed Poison Ivy. "It just wasn't possible. You're losing your edge, J."

"Anyway, I just stopped by to let you know the good news," said Batman, turning to go. "But I have some work to do finding my real brother, so if you'll excuse me..."

"Oh, I knew it was a joke all along, Batsy!" giggled Joker. "I knew Jack Napier was dead!"

"How?" asked Batman, turning back.

"Simple, really. I killed him," he said, grinning. "I do vaguely remember the guy – bit of a loser, really. Trust him to be your brother. Jack Napier was a two-bit thug, a pathetic gun for hire. Nothing to be proud of. So I killed him."

Batman studied him. "How did he die?" he asked.

"He took a little tumble," murmured Joker. "And fell down, down, down, down, down, until…splat!" he said, clapping his hands together. "Bye-bye, Jackie!"

"You killed my brother?" asked Batman, softly.

"Yep," said Joker, nodding. "Bet you wanna make me pay real good for that, huh, Batsy? Bet you wanna avenge yourself on the guy who spilled your brother's blood. Your blood."

"I don't believe in vengeance," murmured Batman. "Only justice."

He turned away again. "At least Jack is with my father now," he murmured. "I hope he found the peace in death he could never find in life."

"Amen to that!" giggled Joker. "So I should kill people more often to help them out, is that what you're saying?"

The cell block door slammed shut, and Joker continued to laugh hysterically. "Good news, Harl," he said, sitting down next to her on the bed. "You ain't related to Bats."

"You really sure you don't wanna find out if you are, Mr. J?" asked Harley. "I'm sure the doctors here could analyze your DNA…"

"Oh, I already know, Harley girl," he chuckled, kissing her forehead. "Maybe not with facts and science and truth, but I do know nonetheless."

He chuckled, lying down and putting his hands over his head. "Ah, the things I do for family! Switching blood samples and lying and pretending I can remember killing a guy I don't even remember! Still, I guess my batty little bro is worth it. I can't wait to see him again!"

…

"I know your father would be pleased about this, sir," said Alfred, as he held an umbrella over Bruce Wayne's head. They were standing in the rain in the cemetery beside his parents' grave. Right next to the monument was a small plaque newly set in the ground which read:

_Jack Wayne_

_Hope you've found your way home at last._

_Rest in peace, my brother._

Bruce nodded slowly. "I hope so, Alfred. But that's another family member I've lost to crime in Gotham."

He was silent. "The one positive thing about the possibility of Jack being the Joker was that…it meant I had a family member who was still alive. However twisted and distorted he was. But now I know…I'm truly alone. The last of the Waynes."

"You're not alone, sir," said Alfred, putting a hand on his shoulder. "There is family that is joined by blood. And then there is family that is joined by stronger ties than that."

Bruce nodded again, forcing a smile. "I hope he's with my parents now, anyway," murmured Bruce, staring at the stone. "In a place without darkness and night and violence and crime."

He put a single rose down on the plaque, and then turned away. "Rest in peace, Jack," he murmured. "Wherever you are, my brother, I hope you're happy."

And back in Arkham Asylum, the Joker smiled.

**The End**


End file.
